


Not a Maid

by Shareece (kimbob)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Romance, F/M, POV Jaime Lannister
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-07 04:17:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20303335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimbob/pseuds/Shareece
Summary: “In no point in the past up until this very moment you’ve never slept with a man, or woman.”Jaime’s eyes strayed to Brienne once more, catching her gaze with his own apologetic one.  He knew she was embarrassed by the way the flush on her face seemed to deepen even further.  He knew she was going to flee at any moment and just as he opened his mouth to repair the damage done, it happened.She lifted her cup and drank.





	Not a Maid

In all the time Jaime has known Brienne, he has never seen her smile as such. Not once. Her relaxed state and open joy warmed him too his core. He grinned at her as their eyes met. Her cheeks were flushed from both the wine and candlelight. This was the third time he had to fight the impulse to reach for her hand as she grinned back at him. It was a wonderful night. They had won the war against the dead and the joy he felt at being alive and being surrounded by those he held most dear seemed infectious.

Then his drunken brother had to ruin it with his idiotic statement. He watched as Brienne’s happy smile quickly faded and her expression shuttered closed. ‘Fuck.’ He thought. Out of the corner of his eye he watched as Pod surreptitiously took a drink from his cup. He attempted to stray Tyrion from his statement by reminding him of the rules of the game, but Tryion was, as usual, cleverer than he was by miles. 

“In no point in the past up until this very moment you’ve never slept with a man, or woman.” 

Jaime’s eyes strayed to Brienne once more, catching her gaze with his own apologetic one. He knew she was embarrassed by the way the flush on her face seemed to deepen even further. He knew she was going to flee at any moment and just as he opened his mouth to repair the damage done, it happened. 

She lifted her cup and drank. 

His eyes widened. A hush fell over their table as she placed her cup down and squarely met Tyrion’s gaze. Jaime’s gaze turned to Pod who didn’t seemed surprised by the revelation. 

Tyrion raised his cup to salute Brienne. “Ohh oh, Ser Lady! You surprise me yet again.” 

Jaime watched with the same shocked expression as Brienne slowly stood from the table. “If you’ll excuse me.” She said and turned to go, pausing as Tormund blocked her escape. 

Jaime’s gaze darkened as he watched the wildling proposition Brienne, and if he weren’t still in shock, he’d feel nothing short of pride as she ignored the beast’s advances and made her exit. He glared one last time at his brother and stood, blocking Tormund from his unnerving request before following her out of the hall. 

88 

Jaime grabbed a flagon and two cups from a passing servant on his way to Brienne’s chambers. He held the cups against his chest as he worked up the bravery to knock on her chamber door. The door swung open and his words died on his tongue as their eyes met. He silently held up the flagon and he thanked his luck as she moved to the side so he could enter. 

He moved into the room, placing flagon and cups down. The heat of the room nearly stifled him, and he pulled at the neck of his shirt with a frown. He turned to face her, pausing as he caught sight of Brienne’s suspicious gaze. He cleared his throat. “May we sit, my lady?”

Her gaze turned even more suspicious. “Why?”

Instead of answering her question, Jaime sat down in the chair in front of the fire. He waved his hand to the chair in front of him. Brienne, always stubborn as a mule, crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Please?” 

Brienne sighed heavily before dropping her arms and sitting down stiffly. Jaime could read the tension within her. He couldn’t blame her because he felt tense himself. Despite that he pushed on. “You drank.” 

She nodded once. “I did.” She glared, crossing her arms in front of her chest again. “You sound just as surprised as Lord Tyrion; as if the very thought of someone finding me desirable a shock.” 

Jaime could tell she was trying to hide the hurt in her words, but he could hear it, nonetheless. He shook his head. “Quite the opposite, my lady.” He tilted his head to the side and asked softly. “Who was it?” Brienne rolled her eyes at him. 

“Why do you wish to know?”

He shrugged, feeling desperate. “Because I do.” Because if she told him he could quite possibly do something idiotic. “Tell me, please?” He raised an eyebrow. “Was it a woman?”

She frowned at him. “I don’t desire women.” 

He nodded then frowned deeply. “Was it—Tormund Giantsbane?”

“No!” She scoffed, getting angry. “You insult me, Ser.” 

The relief that flowed through Jaime was all but brief. “Then who?” he urged. “Come on, my lady, tell me.” He tilted his head. “It wasn’t—was it Pod?”

Her glare turned murderous. “I’m going to punch you.” 

He held up his hands. “Apologies. I know better.” He sighed. “I’ll stop.” He swallowed thickly and looked away from her. 

Brienne stayed stubbornly quiet for a long moment and the tension between them grew even more. Jaime wondered how it was this wonderful night went downhill so fast. He had no fucking luck. He turned toward the fire thinking he should just drop the whole issue until, suddenly, Brienne began to speak quietly. 

“His name was Ser Derren. He was a soldier from Bear Island.” 

He turned to face her, feeling strange as she revealed who it was to him. “Was?”

Brienne nodded; her eyes sad as she answered. “He didn’t survive the battle.” 

‘A shame.’ Jaime thought viciously. He nodded his head, urging her to continue. 

She looked away from him as she continued, staring down at her hands. “It was some time after I returned from Riverrun. He was one of the men I would spar with. He was completely full of himself and often insulted me, but there was never any malice behind it.” She gave a small smile as she said it.

Jaime could feel himself fill with an unnerving amount of rage. It was odd to him, seeing and hearing Brienne discuss another man with such open affection. He wanted her to stop speaking but nodded his head anyway. “Go on.” He said.

She folded her hands into her lap. “Some nights we would share our evening meal together and one night he asked to share my bed and I allowed it.” 

Jaime realized he was gripping the arm of the chair in his good hand so tightly his knuckles were white. He slowly released his hold. He had so many other questions but found himself unable to ask them and, as usual, he spoke without much thought. “Hmm.” He said after a few moments of silence “Is that all it takes to lay with the former Maid of Tarth? A few well-placed insults and a few evening meals?” It was low, but he was drowning. 

“Piss off!” She snarled at him. She looked ready to kick him out of her chambers. 

He deflated as he nodded, suitably chastened. “That was rude. I apologize.” 

She considered him for a long moment before nodding her head once, forgiving him because of course she would.

They were quiet once more and Jaime took a few moments to reduce his rage to a simmering boil. He glanced briefly at Brienne, wishing he knew what it was she was thinking. “Was he kind to you?” He asked softly. 

“Yes, of course.” She answered. “He had always been kind.” 

Jaime nodded, regarding her quietly; absurdly searching for changes which showed she was no longer a maid, but she looked the same as she always did. Serious scowl, disapproving frown, and beautiful blue eyes. His own frown deepened. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” 

“Like what?”

“Like that. Like you’re—” She stopped herself. 

Intrigued, Jaime sat forward. “How am I looking at you, my lady?”

Brienne swallowed as she answered softly. “As if you’re quite jealous.” 

Admittedly, his stomach churned with jealousy and more. He was jealous and angry and just a tad fucking hurt even though he had no right to feel any of those things. What did he expect exactly? That no other man would ever desire her? That she would have waited for him to be her first and only? ‘Yes!’ The lion within him roared, but in truth Brienne belonged to no one. She was a free woman. She made her own choices and followed life by her own rules. It was what he admired most about her; one of the reasons he desired her so. He sat back; his rage suddenly gone. “Why?” He asked. 

She raised her chin. “Why what?”

He raised his hand at her defensive tone. “You don’t have to answer, Brienne. Your reasons are your own. I merely wanted to—” He trailed off with a nervous laugh. “Just forget I asked.”

He watched as the tension seemed to slowly drain out of her by the way her shoulders drooped. Her answer was halting as she spoke. “The world was near to ending. I wanted to—see what the fuss was about before I died.” She shrugged. “I didn’t think I would ever—I—” She took a deep breath as she continued to share her thoughts. “It wasn’t about not dying a maid. I just wanted solace.” 

Jaime nodded his understanding. “Okay.” He knew he should say more than that, but the sudden lump in his throat prevented him from doing so. He could understand the chilling fear of the world ending and being alone at the end of it; wanting comfort. 

A comfortable silence fell over them until Jaime admitted softly. “I am jealous.”

Brienne’s blue gaze widened in obvious shock by his admission. “Why?”

Jaime’s gaze was amused, unsurprised that she continued to be clueless. “That is against the rules, my lady.” 

She frowned in confusion. “What?”

Jaime leaned forward. “Our game; well my game.” He shrugged. “I ask you a question and for each one you answer, I shall tell you something.” 

Brienne shook her head. “I’m not in the mood for more games.” She glared at him. “And why do you get to ask all of the questions?”

He rolled his eyes. “Because Brienne, those are the rules. Are you being this difficult on purpose?” He smiled as her glare turned into a scowl. “First question—” 

She cut him off. “I didn’t say I was going to—” 

He interrupted her. “Did you lay with Ser Derron more than once?”

Brienne pursed her lips as she answered him grudgingly. “No, I did not.” 

Jaime hid his surprise and his delight as he nodded once. “I am jealous because I am a selfish man, Brienne. In truth, knowing that you’ve given your affections to another man boils my blood so.” She looked less impressed and more annoyed with his confession. He looked down, shamefaced. “I know I have no room to speak nor any claims to you.” 

“You’re right on both, Ser.” She said quietly.

He nodded and asked his next question. “Did you love him?”

She scoffed. “You ask stupid questions and I am close to punching you again.”

Jaime nodded. “I see that.” He said softly. “Well,” he continued to push for an answer, “did you?” 

He waited with bated breath as Brienne took her time to ponder whether she should give him an answer or throw him from her chambers. He idly wondered if he should end this torture as he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear her answer, though he kept quiet because he was a glutton for punishment. 

Brienne sighed heavily as she answered. “There was no great love, Jaime. We were simply two people who drifted toward one another.” 

Jaime nodded once and said his next confession quietly. “You were all I could think about as I rode North.” 

To his surprise, Brienne began to shake her head at his words. “Don’t say that.” 

He frowned. “Why not?” 

She scowled at him. “Because it isn’t true.”

His frown deepened as he sat closer. “It is true, My lady. I have never lied to you. You know that.” He shook his head with a small laugh. “Brienne, you have no idea how your words have stirred me so; have steadied me.” He reached for her hand and gently squeezed her fingers. “You always bring out the best parts of me.” 

She snatched her hand out of his grasp. “You’re drunk.” She rasped. 

Jaime shook his head. “No, well yes, but—” He trailed off with a sigh. “I’m not drunk enough to not know my own mind Brienne. What I say is truth.” He attempted to reach for her hand again, but she slapped it away. “Ow! Brienne—”

“Don’t touch me!” She growled. “I am incredibly close to punching you.”

Jaime sighed heavily. Why was he so bad at this? He sighed again and soldiered on. “My next question.” 

Her eyes widened. “I cannot believe you.” She cut in incredulously. 

He ignored her outburst. “Do you love me?” He startled as she suddenly stood from her chair. 

Brienne pointed to the door; her expression outraged. “Get out.” She said, her tone quiet. 

Jaime shook his head as he stood also. “No.” He said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Our game continues. Now, please answer the question.” He moved closer toward her. “Do you love me?” 

Jaime watched with quiet fascination as a myriad of emotions flashed across her face. He swallowed nervously. “Brienne,” He started, his impatience getting the best of him, “please tell me your thoughts.” Her cheeks began to flush as he stepped even closer. “Do you?” He urged. He sighed when she gave no answer. “Alright,” He started softly, “If you won’t answer, then I shall confess. I love—” He was cut off by her fist meeting with his nose. 

888

“Stop moving!” Brienne growled as she gently dabbed a damp cloth against Jaime’s nose.

“It hurts!” He complained and she rolled her eyes. 

“You’re such a child.” She hissed as she continued to gently clean away the blood. “It isn’t even broken.” 

Jaime glared at her. “You punched me!” 

She shrugged. “I gave you several warnings.” 

Jaime gazed at her, noting the previously faint blush to her cheeks were now as red as the blood dripping from his nose. Despite her clear agitation with him, her hands remained gentle as she attempted to stop the bleeding. He felt his heart warm with a familiar feeling he no longer tried to deny. “I have attempted to tell you I am in love with you and you react with violence.” He chuckled to himself, suddenly very amused with all that just occurred. 

Brienne pursed her lips as she wiped the remainder of the blood away before tossing the cloth at his chest. “You should not tell lies. It’s bad form.” 

He scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “You are frustratingly stubborn, Brienne of Tarth. I told you I am not lying to you.” He leaned forward. “I am in love with you.” He watched as she looked away from him, her expression becoming pained. “Brienne?”

“Why?” she asked softly. “Why make such a confession now?”

Jaime had been close to confessing many times since arriving in the North but had held himself in check. He’d thought his knighting her had been a confession within itself, but in all honesty seeing her lift that cup to drink her confession had lit a fire underneath him to act. “I fear you may punch me again if I answer you with the truth.” She pursed her lips and he smiled, this time kneeling in front of her to grasp her hand once again. She didn’t scowl or snatch her hand away which was a good sign for no reactions of violence to come from her. “I want to kiss you.” He murmured, caressing her hand with his fingers. “Will you allow it?”

Brienne regarded him for a long moment before nodding her head once. 

He smiled as he leaned forward. “Please, don’t punch me again.” Their lips met in an, at first, chaste kiss which turned more passionate with each passing moment. Brienne, Jaime mused, kissed much like she fought. Fiercely and full of passion. Soft lips and tongue fought for dominance against one another in a way that had Jaime groaning desperately against her mouth. He pulled away first, resting his forehead against her own in order to catch his breath. “Well, my lady—” She placed her hand over his mouth. 

“Don’t ruin it.” She whispered, standing up. She reached to untie her shirt, and Jaime stared up at her reverently. “Are you going to stare up at me like a gaping fish or are you going to join me in undressing?” 

Jaime grinned as he stood up. He tugged at the stays on his shirt. “So long as you can assist me, my lady?”

88

Much time later, with sweat cooling on their heated skin, found Jaime lifting his head from Brienne’s chest. He kissed her underneath her chin. “Was I better?” He whispered and she frowned up at the ceiling. 

“What are you saying?” She asked, running her fingers through his head. 

He placed a kiss between her breast. “The late great Ser Derron. Was I better?” He kept his focus on placing kisses where her bruises lay, knowing if he met her gaze, she would be frowning disapprovingly at him. 

“Really, Jaime?” Her voice was both amused and tired and he looked up, surprised to see mirth in her gaze. 

He shrugged; his gaze sheepish. “Well, was I?”

Brienne reached for his hand and entwined their fingers as she said quietly. “It is different when you are with someone you actually love.” 

There was the answer to his previous question and Jaime couldn’t keep the very large grin from surfacing on his lips as he leaned up and kissed her. “I was better.” He concluded. 

END


End file.
